


Sweat and Spit

by Sophia_Bee



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2386613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Working on writing a decent sex scene.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sweat and Spit

**Author's Note:**

> Working on writing a decent sex scene.

The first time she pulled her shirt over her head and her fingers fumbled with the clasp on her bra he just watched her, seemingly oblivious to the flush that was rising up her cheeks.

It was a warm summer afternoon and her dad was out taking pictures of yet another illicit affair so his employer could get out of having to pay the prenup when he filed for divorce. She’d heard a knock on the door and Logan was there, sheepish, guilty, shuffling his feet, asking to come in. And she knew what he was really asking, and she had an answer for him at the tip of her tongue but instead she took him by the hand and pulled him inside.

They’d barely talked to each other since Aaron had tried to barbeque her in a freezer. Sometimes Veronica felt like she could still smell the smoke in her hair and she’d go take yet another shower, scrubbing at her skin until it was bright red and almost raw. And her dreams were tinted red and orange and in each one she rewrote history, and her flesh melted in the heat, bones turning to ash. Every night she woke up to her own screams.

She knew better to ask why he was there or if he knew that she had only gone to the Kane house that night because she wanted more than anything to prove him innocent. She knew better than to ask why he hadn’t talked to her and why he looked away every time her eyes had met his in at the courthouse. Those questions were meaningless compared to the look on Logan’s face as he stood in the middle of her living room, the sounds of cars driving by and kids playing in the pool muted in the background. She could only grip his hand tighter and try to make him know that she understood.

“I need you.” He mumbled as she pulled him toward her bedroom but Veronica stopped all words with her mouth, pressing her lips against his, weaving her fingers around his neck and into his hair, and she knew whatever he needed, she would give him.

She hooked a finger under her bra strap and pulled it off her shoulders, letting it drop onto the floor, and her hands came up to cover her bare breasts in an unconscious gesture of modesty then they dropped to her sides and she lifted her eyes to his face. The look on his face was one of exquisite pain and desire, his mouth opened a little and she heard a sharp intake of breath as he reached his hand out and ran a thumb across one of her nipples. Her eyelids slipped shut at the feel of his fingers on her skin.

“Oh, god.”

She’d been felt up before. Duncan, Troy and Leo had all had their hands up her shirt, and she’d found it highly enjoyable. But she’d never sat in front of them like this, her knees touching Logan’s knees, his hands on her breasts, and she leaned into his touch, her mouth half open, and her entire body jumpy and electric. Then he leaned forward and his teeth softly nipped at her erect nipple and her hands were in his hair, pulling him closer.

“Veronica.” He muttered thickly against her skin and she pushed him away from her, holding his face between her hands, then leaned forward and kissed him hard, opening her mouth wide and pushing her tongue against his. His hands settled on either side of her rib cage, slid around to her back and pulled her against him until there was no space left between them.

“Off.” She breathed as she pulled away from him, leaving him gasping for air, chest rising and falling with each breath, and her fingers plucked at the cotton of his t-shirt until she felt his hand on hers and he helped her pull it over his head. And finally they were skin against skin and his mouth was back on hers and he was pushing her backwards onto the softness of her pink flowered comforter and his thigh pushed between hers and she pushed her hips up into him and felt him shudder just a little. He moved his mouth to her ear, sucking on her earlobe. Her mouth found his neck and her tongue slipped out tasted the sheen of sweat that was developing on his skin. It was salty and sweet and she wanted more so she licked him again and was rewarded with another shudder followed by what she though was a combination of a moan and her name.

She remembered a song her dad had played on the radio during a road trip to Encino years ago. It had crooned about sex and healing and she’d never understood until she held Logan in her arms and felt his body harden against hers and she knew they both needed this because it was so crazy that it felt sane. Maybe it wasn’t healing but kissing and touching Logan and watching his eyes darken and his jaw hang slack as she circled his nipple with her fingers was at least a pleasant diversion from the nightmares and the distance she felt between herself and the rest of the world.

His hands shook at he fumbled with the button on her jeans and she smiled as she brushed his hand away and unbuttoned them herself, then slipped them down her hips and threw them onto the floor next to her shirt and bra. He smiled back then kissed her so sweetly that she felt tears in her eyes, and what had felt desperate only moments ago suddenly turned soft and slow. He kissed her neck. Then her breast. Then her stomach. He licked a circle around her belly button and she bit back a giggle. He kissed her thigh and she bit back a gasp. Then his hands gently pushed her thighs apart and he dipped his head and she felt his tongue lapping against her and her hands were in his hair as her head fell back.

“Logan.”

Veronica felt everything grow tight and she pushed her hips off the bed and her hands went back to grab the edge of her headboard and the only sounds that she could make were unintelligible moans.

“Don’t’ stop.” She begged as she felt his mouth pull away, and he rolled away from her and for just a moment she was lying there without his touch and she wondered at the emptiness she felt. Then he was back, his mouth on hers and she could taste herself on his tongue as it invaded her mouth and she could feel him hard against her thigh and through the fog of want and desire that enveloped her brain she realized they were both finally naked. They pushed against each other, skin slipping against skin, and his mouth was all heat and spit and she couldn’t get enough. Her hand slipped around his back and pulled him so close she could barely breath. Then he rolled them over and suddenly she was on top of him and he was pushing her up until she was straddling his hips and they were both still as they looked into each other’s eyes.

She wanted to ask a million questions. What it felt like when the belt hit his skin. Or what it felt like to love the shooting star that was Lilly. Maybe what it felt like to know your dad was the one who had brained her with a bright red ashtray, the same color as her blood that flowed across the concrete. And why was it today that he decided to show up on her doorstep and look at her in a way that made her know she was the only one who could take away his pain?

And she wanted to tell him a million things. How her world had felt like it was falling apart the first time he’d kissed her on the balcony, how she’d wanted him to do it again and again. How she’d slipped her hand between her thighs that night and come as she remembered the feeling of his lips on hers. She wanted to tell him that she knew what it was like to lose a mother and that they weren’t so different after all.

Instead she lifted her hips and guided him inside her and bit her bottom lip as his hands rested in the small of her back and she started to move. Her head hung down and she pushed back her hair with one hand, the other moving between her thighs. Her eyes never left his, challenging him to look away and knowing he wouldn’t, not matter how much he wanted to let his eyelids flutter shut and drift away on the feeling of being deep inside her. And she moved faster, his hips moving in time with her thighs, and her legs started to burn just as she started to feel that slick melting feeling deep in her stomach and his name was on her lips as she finally tipped her head back and her mind whited out and her toes curled and she couldn’t hold herself up any longer and collapsed against his chest.

He was shuddering under her, arms wrapping around her and pulling her so close she felt like she couldn’t breath. And she knew they would lie there for a while, sticky with sweat and spit and soon he’d pull away from her and slip his pants back on and they would say nothing as she walked him to the door. He’d turn and kiss her but there would be no promises, no making plans for another day because neither knew for sure there would be another day.

They’d learned that the hard way.


End file.
